


Emotional Constipation (A Little Push)

by cnastiel (wormstachestiel)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Humor, M/M, Season/Series 08
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-27
Updated: 2013-09-27
Packaged: 2017-12-27 19:04:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/982505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wormstachestiel/pseuds/cnastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam and Dean were trying to get back into the hunting routine after Dean and Cas returned from Purgatory. Gabriel, who has been mysteriously resurrected from the dead, decided there was nothing wrong with slipping some emotional laxatives into their drinks. What had started out as a simple matter of forced romance, however, may destroy any chance of free will that Castiel's ever had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Emotional Constipation (A Little Push)

**Author's Note:**

> We're pretending Cas left Purgatory with Dean.
> 
> Also this is my first attempt at something with a plot, so bear with me!!

Dean Winchester was a man. He did manly things. He drank beer, he knew how to assemble just about any lethal weapon and use it without a second thought, he could hold his liquor, and on occasion he enjoyed sports. So why, for the love of god, did everyone insist that he was into dudes? Whether he was getting a hotel room with Sam or at a diner with Cas, everyone assumed they’re together. Was he giving off gay vibes or something? Not that he was a homophobe or anything, do who you wanna do, and all, but taking it up the ass was most definitely not on Dean Winchester’s To Do list.

Not from Cas, at least.

So when they sat down that day at a local diner to review Sam’s research and, more importantly, eat, and Sam started going on about _Cas_ and _feelings_ , he was ready to cut a bitch. The bitch, of course, being his little brother.

“What?” He ground out. Cas was his best friend and Dean cared about him a damn lot. Maybe even a little more than he should, considering what happened to people Dean cared about, but like hell he was gonna tell Sam about it. He wasn’t a schoolgirl who went spewing his feelings all over the place. Dean would like his feelings intact, not shattered into a million pieces when he’s rejected, thank you very much. In any case, he wasn’t gonna talk about it, _especially_ on a case.

The case they were working on that the time was in Ruckersville, Virginia. It was a relatively normal case, as far as cases go. People were getting viciously mauled and everyone thought it was some kind of animal on the loose. It might have been, except that according to the coroner that put in the report, the teeth marks were human. Big frickin' whoop. It was obviously just another rabid demon case, gnawing people's arms off or something. All they'd have to do was Abracadabra the son of a bitch back to hell and they'd be on their merry way. Simple Pimple.

“I said, how do you feel about Cas, Dean? It’s a simple question.” Sam insisted. 9 AM and Sam was already in ultimate Bitch Mode in addition to his initial weirdness. Dean leaned forward on the booth's not-quite-shiny table, ready to advance on the whole 'cutting a bitch' front.

“I don’t know, he’s great. Flippin' fantastic. Is that what you want to hear?”  

“No, I mean-” Sam sighed. It was like they were back in the 3rd grade. Sarah said that Sally said that you want Jimmy's dick. “Do you like him?"

"I already told you, he-"

"No, Dean. Like, as more than a friend.” Sam's face was heartbreakingly serious. Dean leaned forward even further, resting his forearms on the booth’s table to reach up and rub his temples, still trying to figure out just what the _hell_ it would take to get his little brother to shut up.

“No." Dean sighed. "No! What- what the hell, Sam? Where is this coming from?” Dean barked out a laugh. “I mean, me and Cas crawl out of purgatory and one of the first things you ask me about is if Cas and I re-enacted _Brokeback Mountain_ in our spare time?" Another laugh. "You sure your soul's still intact, Sammy?" Sam looked wounded. Dean didn’t blame him. He wanted to hit himself too.

"Well, it's not like you'll tell me anything about it! I've asked you, Dean. You don't wanna talk about it and I'm okay with waiting until you are. I just-" Sam looked conflicted. "I don't know. I don't...know why I said that." Sam looked down at the table, noticeably clenching his jaw.

"Okay, so, good. I guess." Dean cleared his throat. Sam had been like this ever since they'd gotten into town, and had only gotten worse when his WiFi crashed last night.

As Dean was contemplating this, a woman, presumably their waitress, strolled up to their booth, cherry sucker poking out of her mouth. She was a pretty black girl with a kind face. Her face held the practiced smile that all waitresses seemed to have, but her eyes were twinkling with a unique kind of laughter. Her name tag read Chelsea. She was pretty enough, the kind of girl Dean would eventually try to hook up with. Sam would probably want to court her or something sappy like that. And Cas would definitely...uh. Huh. What kind of girl even would Cas like? Or a guy, maybe? _Was Cas gay?_ That unearthed a whole bunch of nurvous butterflys in Dean's stomache that he wanted no part of.

Luckily, Chelsea rested her manicured hand comfortably on Sam’s shoulder, interrupting Dean's inner monolague. Weird. “And how can I help you fine gentlemen today?” She grinned, voice sugary sweet, looking at Sam, then Dean, then back to Sam, who shifted uncomfortably beneath her hand. Dean liked her style.

Dean could think of a few things she could help him with. He raised his eyebrows and smirked suggestively. “Well, I-"

“I’ll have some pancakes and sausage links. Water.” Sam interrupted. After so many years of doing this, Sam could totally tell when his brother was about to sexually harass someone. He just got this _look_ , like most people would get when they’re about to tell a funny joke.

"Sure thing, cutie." Chelsea took her hand off Sam's shoulder to scribble his order on her notepad and looked expectantly at Dean. Dean opened his mouth to object Sam’s very rude interruption, but thought better of it and grudgingly ordered his breakfast, a bacon cheeseburger and a Coke. He sent the girl off with a wink and some stupid comment about not keeping him waiting. Sam rolled his eyes.

“So, what, uh, what’d you dig up, Scoob?” Dean made an attempt at a smile.

“What?” Sam was very clearly checking out Chelsea's ass. Dean sighed, defeated.

“The case, Sam. What did you find out about the case?” Thankfully, that brought Sam back into the swing of things.

“Oh. Oh! Well, as it turns out, there’s some ancient folklore about these things called Anthropophagi.”

“Anthro- _what_?” Dean questioned, a bit too loudly. People in the diner were starting to stare. Great. Sam shot Dean a look and sighed, rolling his eyes.

“Anthropophagi. They’re demonic cannibals, basically. People who used to be humans but the more they ate, uh, meat, the less human they became.”

“Didn’t we do a case on those a while back?”

“Yeah, except these were given power directly from hell. There’s demonic power in them.”

“Kay, so how do you get rid of ‘em?”

“Well I don’t _know_ because when I got back from getting take-out, my laptop was frozen on Busty Asian Beauties.” Sam said and cleared his throat with a very pointed look at Dean, who blushed only a little bit. Okay, so maybe the WiFi _wasn’t_ the problem, but that wasn’t the point.

Unfortunately, Dean never got to tell Sam that fine point because Chelsea chose that moment to swoop in with their drinks. "You are _not_ off the hook for this, Dean."

 

—————

 

Back at the hotel room, things were per usual as far as cases go. Sam had gotten his laptop working again, back on his research. Dean was laying on the motel bed, arms resting behind his head, watching Doctor Sexy M.D. God, this episode was so good. Maria was about to find out about her mother's stage four brain cancer, but she was making out with the sexy and intelligent Doctor Lucas who was supposed to be telling her the news. Dean was a good 30 minutes into the episode when he tensed. Something was wrong. Dean couldn't put his finger on it, but it was like a...

Dean heard what sounded like a coat flapping, then an extreme weight on his stomach. He doubled over, breathe punched out of him. His arms flew out from behind his head to battle whatever had begun to attack him.

"Oof." Wait. That sounded like-

"Cas?" said Sam from his laptop. Sure enough, one look at his attacker's dirty trench coat had confirmed that Cas had appeared _on his lap_ , dirty and beat up.

“What the hell, Cas? You know that scares the crap outta me!” Snapped Dean, about an octave higher than it should have been. Sam was smirking, amused beyond belief, with no small hint of joy on his face. Dean was already thinking of ways to wipe that smirk right off. Dean’s heart was beating too damn fast for someone who hunts ghosts for a living and it pissed him off.

“Sorry.” Castiel rolled off Dean to stand upright, un-perturbed by Dean’s outburst, but still very obviously concerned about _something_. Cas hadn’t been around much lately, appearing and disappearing at various intervals, never explaining so much as where he went. Of course, that was fairly regular for Castiel, but this last time he had been gone for longer than usual. Dean missed Castiel, as much as he would never admit it out loud.

There was an uncomfortable silence before Sam cleared his throat. “So, uh, what’s up?”

“Yeah, Cas, where the hell you been?” Dean asked, more than a hint of accusation in his voice. Castiel ignored it in favor of getting straight to the point.

“There seems to be a…problem.” Cas said, neatly sidestepping Dean’s question in favor of Sam’s.

“What _kind_ of problem?” Dean's irritation over Cas’ vagueness was obvious. Much as he’d like to help Cas and get him out of any trouble he’d gotten into, Dean would’ve liked an actual damn greeting from Cas after being gone for so long.

“What is it? Like, ghosts, demons, angels…” Sam took on an annoyingly hopeful expression, “…any personal issue you’d like to tell us about?” Cas took on a look of frustrated concentration and exhaled, probably more for effect than anything else.

“I suppose it _is_  personal,” Sam's eyebrows hiked up. He clearly wasn't expecting Cas to actually have personal problems. “There, ah, there seems to be something wrong with...me.” said the angel, still looking constipated. He seemed to be struggling with the concept. Both Sam and Dean waited in silence for Castiel to continue.

“I-” Castiel pressed his lips together, his brows furrowed. “I'm unable to enter Heaven.” He sighed.

“What do you mean, you can’t get into Heaven? Your mojo not working or something?”

“If you consider my ‘mojo’ my powers, then yes, they are still intact," said Cas, physically putting air quotes around Dean's word. He paused, then added, as an after-thought, "Thank you for asking.” his mouth relaxing into less of a frown as he said it, and if Dean blushed, it was because the room was hot.

Unfortunately, Dean didn’t take very well to anything close to whatever the hell caused that blush.

“S-so what’s the holdup, then?” Dean stammered, “Heaven’s little bitch can’t go home so he comes crawling back to us? Typical, Cas, fucking typical.” Dean said, words sounding harsh to even his own ears.

"DEAN." Sam looked like he was about to do something about Dean's shit attitude towards his best friend when Cas interrupted them.

"My home has always been with you, Dean." Cas looked surprised at his own words.

Well. That quickly deflated Dean's asshole defense technique. He was left kind of speechless. Sam was elated.

"Well, you're welcome to stay with us. Isn't that right, Dean?"

"Uh." 

Sam focused an uncharacteristically shit eating grin at Cas. "Great! Make yourself at home."

Castiel, shifted, uncomfortable. "Yes, okay." he walked over to Dean's bed and sat down next to him. They looked at each other, uncomfortable, as Sam tapped away, creepily happy on his laptop. Dean turned back to the TV, decisively ignoring the uncomfortable tension between him and the angel sitting on his bed. There were a few moments of silence and Dean thought he could get back to Doctor Sexy when Cas spoke again.

"Dean."

God _dammit_. He had to take a deep breathe and count to ten before answering. This was too much shit to put up with in one day.

"What?"

"I feel...tired" Castiel stated it like it was a question. Sam's typing stopped. All attention was now on Castiel.

"You what?!"

"My eyelids are getting heavy and I feel fatigued. I think I need to sleep." he seemed slightly terrified, but yep, he looked about ready to conk out. Dean was going to question why the hell he would need to sleep if he was an _angel_ , but just as he opened his mouth, Sam smoothly closed his laptop.

“You know what? You’re right, Cas. You should get some sleep.” Sam said dismissively, like he didn’t just hear an angel have _human_ needs. “You can sleep in Dean’s bed.” Dean couldn't believe his own ears.

“Woah there, Yentel. Ain’t that going a bit fast?” Dean was only half joking.

"Seriously, Dean? Fiddler on the roof?”

"Hey, you were in it, baby bro, at least I showed up-”

"Sam is right, Dean, I should get some rest.” Cas interrupted. Both heads turned towards him, eyes wide. He stood up, taking off his trench coat and shoes and discarding them on the floor. Next was his tie and socks, stripping them was if it was something he did every day of the week. Dean balked at Cas’ unintentional strip tease, unable to tear his eyes away. When Castiel started fumbling with the buttons of his shirt, Sam had to intervene for his brother, who was obviously hit some sort of a wall and was just staring at Cas _take his clothes off_ with an expression somewhere between _are you fucking kidding me_ and _I hate my life._

“Woah, there Cas!” Sam interrupted, laughing halfheartedly

Castiel stopped, shirt half unbuttoned and belt in his hand. He looked up, completely oblivious to the fact that taking his clothes off might have been alarming to some of the viewing audience. Sam sighed and took the belt from Cas, laying it on the chair and table set up in the dingy motel room.

“You gotta get pajamas, dude.” Castiel looked bewildered. Sam turned around and got Dean’s Black Sabbath T-shirt - his favorite, of course - and gave it to Cas. “Put this on. And, ah, keep your boxers on.” Sam smiled halfheartedly. While this was going on, Dean stayed on the bed, holding his head in his hands, hating his life.

Cas nodded and finished changing his clothes. He began to drag back the covers of Dean’s bed and climbed in, settling in with a contented sigh. Dean stared at the wall, horrified at everything going on. Sam must have thought he was pouting, because soon after Cas pulled the covers over himself, he said, "There's no point in arguing, Dean. I take up too much space on the bed and you and Cas share that profound bond thing. You can cuddle over it." Sam said with a badly hidden smile, trying desperately to contain his laughter.

"Shut up, bitch." Dean turned back to the TV, the back of his neck near scarlet. He was devoutly ignoring the man in his bed.

"Jerk." Sam grinned, closing his laptop. He made his way to his bed, turning off the lights on the way. The glow of the TV was the only light source in the room. The stark silence was interrupted only by the voice of Doctor Sexy musing the death of his elderly but attractive patient, whom he just found out was his long lost mother. This lasted for a couple seconds before Castiel shifted drowsily beneath the sheets.

"Dean, are you coming to bed?" There was a peal of laughter from the other side of the room. God _damnit_. Sam was getting too much enjoyment out of this for his own good. Dean sighed, defeated.

"Yeah, uh, I...um..yeah” Dean cleared his throat nervously. He turned the TV off and stood up, hesitantly moving around to the side of the bed. Dean slid under the covers with the sleepy angel, laying approximately one mile away from him. He was certain Cas could see his embarrassed blush through the darkness. He tried to relax in the bed, attempting to convince himself that the reason he was nervous was because Cas had to _sleep_ , not that he had to sleep _with_ him. Oh god, that was the worst possible phrasing Dean could have come up with.

 _This is totally normal_ , he thought. _Sam is like ten feet away and Cas is your_ friend. _You shouldn’t be so uncomfortable with this._

God, this was so messed up.

"Good night, Dean."

"Shut up."


End file.
